


Fuck the gun

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:57:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: He pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.Mickey Milkovich was definitely home.





	

Ian knelt down and took up a random tyre iron from the porch, before entering the Milkovich house. It was quiet, so he figured everyone was out terrorizing the neighborhood in some way or another. It didn’t seem like such a scary place when it was empty. Maybe he had lucked out and could just grab the gun and go. It may not have been as intimidating, but he would rather get out of there sooner than have someone come back.

He crept up to the door that was very clearly Mickey’s with its on the nose warning to anyone stupid enough to try and come in. Ian gripped his weapon tighter and took a deep breah. Grab and go, Gallagher. Grab and go.

Ian turned the knob slowly, just in case he was very much mistaken about the house’s vacancy, but also because he was a little unsure why he was even risking a run-in with death when Kash shouldn’t have gotten the gun taken at all. But now was not the time to start questioning the married man he’d been fucking. He pushed the door open just enough to peek inside.

Mickey Milkovich was definitely home.

And definitely rubbing one out.

Ian’s eyes went wide and his hand slapped over his mouth. What the fuck. Oh man. Jesus. He was panicking. Fuck the gun. If he was caught watching Mickey jerk it, he’d be a dead man for sure.

But also, fuck the gun.

Mickey had his sweats around his ankles and his knees bent to the side so he was spread wide. His gray tank rode up his stomach a little and Ian wasn’t sure why he was surprised Mickey was in shape. His arms were definitely big. He had one tattooed hand digging into his thigh and the other moving up and down his dick at a good pace. More than once he’d heard Karen joke about how small his dick was hence the over compensating attitude, but maybe she hadn’t actually seen it. Mickey’s dick was about half the length he had, but he had him on thickness. And damn Mickey was working it over. He pulled and squeezed, going faster near the head and slow at the base. Ian’s eyes managed to pull away to Mickey’s face and that’s when he felt his dick get stiff. His face was relaxed for the most part with occasional ticks when something he did felt particularly good. His tongue kept swiping out at his lips to keep his teeth from biting through them. He only let out very quiet grunts and moans, seemingly trying to keep quiet despite being alone….well, he believed he was alone. Ian certainly didn’t plan on shattering that illusion. His hand left his mouth and palmed at the hard on in his jeans. He still had his gloves on.

Ian shifted on his feet, squeezing his dick to relieve the pressure. The floorboard under him threatened to foil him, but if he didn’t control himself right now immediately, he was going to alert Mickey to his presence. He reached into his boxers and pulled his dick up past the waistband, wiping some of the precum from the tip. He sighed louder than he wanted to at that. He thought he was done for when Mickey slowed his hand some and opened his eyes. But he looked torn for a moment, caught by a decision he seemed reluctant to make. His eyes passed over his door, making Ian quickly slide from view, and up to the ceiling like an answer might be there for him. Whatever the struggle in the choice was, he kept stroking his dick to keep it from flagging.

Ian needed to leave. He was not only intruding but now he was being a fucking creep too. He could walk away right now. Forget the gun and hope Mickey gets tired of lording it over them and returns it himself. He should totally do that. Just leave and pretend he wasn’t witnessing the hottest porn he’d ever seen without the Internet or pay per view or a magazine. Those didn’t even compare to what Mickey did next.

Ian watched, open-mouthed, as Mickey ungripped his thigh and brought a few fingers up to his mouth and sucked on them. He licked them up and down and all over, getting way too much spit on them to just be an oral fixation in the moment. Obviously he was done hesitating about whatever, because he brought those fingers down between his legs and shoved them into his ass with a loud groan.

Jesus fucking christ, there was no way. Absolutely no way. There was no fucking way Ian was seeing Mickey Milkovich fingering himself and thoroughly enjoying it by the sounds and faces he was making.

Could this mean…?

Ian shook his head, but his heart skipped at the thought.

As if it were even possible, he felt himself get painfully harder than the heavy object in his other hand. Suddenly he felt really stupid for coming there like a stupid kid, but he wanted to do adult things to Mickey right then too. He palmed himself again, biting his lip to keep the noise of pleasure from escaping. He felt hot in all his layers. Like an idiot, he imagined barging in and them ripping each other’s clothes off and fucking the bed into the wall. Ian cursed under his breath.

Mickey kept at it, moving his fingers in and out of his wet and stretched hole. He moved his legs even further apart and went deeper, hitting a spot that made him shutter from head to toe and gasp and pant. His other hand pumped his dick erratically until there was more than precum dripping from the tip. Mickey spewed his load all over his tank, fucking himself through it. He was shaking and breathing hard and twitching. It was incredibly hot.

So hot, Ian almost dropped the tyre iron as he came untouched and all over himself. Fuck. Shit. He needed to get out of there before Mickey came down from his orgasm and regained his evil powers. He looked content and sated, maybe even a little happy, before his face changed to one of scared guilt.

Ian understood that look. It’s the look of coming down and realizing what it took to take you over.

He wished he could say something that would mean something and not just get him beat, but he just looked at the words on Mickey’s door. He backed up slowly til he was to the door then turned and left as quietly as he could.

Ian decided he didn’t need the gun back. At least not that day.

**Author's Note:**

> This has probably been done a million times, in fact, I’m sure I’ve written something like this before but w/e *shrug face*


End file.
